


A Firelit Respite

by redex_writes



Category: The Alienist (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Sort of Spoilers?, literally just fluff, no beta we die like my ability to write a sentence without adverbs, set after season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29974917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redex_writes/pseuds/redex_writes
Summary: Cyrus stumbles upon a quiet moment between Laszlo and John in the wake of the investigation.“He cares about you a hell of a lot. Even if you weren’t…”He waved a hand vaguely, unsure of the entire nature of their relationship. John coughed and quickly looked away.“Even without that,” Cyrus continued, “Laszlo cares for you. And if I’m not mistaken, you care for him too.”
Relationships: Laszlo Kreizler/John Schuyler Moore
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	A Firelit Respite

Cyrus awoke in what must have been the wee hours of the morning with a parched throat. He blindly reached for the glass of water beside his bed, grunting in annoyance when his hand slapped against the empty nightstand. With a sigh, he pushed back the covers and slipped out into the hall.

He walked quietly, not wanting to wake Stevie, who had recently started sleeping with his door cracked open again. The case of Japeth Dury had taken its toll on all of them--Cyrus had the scar to prove it, he thought wryly. 

Given that, he wasn’t entirely surprised when he turned down the hall and saw light coming from the sitting room. The door was ajar, cutting a swath through the darkness of the hallway, and Cyrus sighed. Either it was Stevie attempting to wait out the night by the fire after a nightmare, or it was Laszlo, engrossed in yet another book or paper. The man had been working himself half to death over the past weeks, barely sleeping and hardly touching his meals. Cyrus worried for him--Laszlo may have been his employer, but he was also one of his closest friends, and it hurt to see him suffer so.

Forgetting his glass of water for a moment, Cyrus approached the door, prepared to drag Laszlo away from his work or guide a half-asleep Stevie back to bed. However, when he nudged the door open further and looked inside, he was met with an unexpected scene.

Laszlo was indeed there, sitting on the settee by the fireplace, but he wasn’t alone. John, who hadn’t been there when Cyrus had turned in, was beside him--very close beside him. The sofa was at an angle on the other side of the room, so from the doorway Cyrus could see how Laszlo--stiff, detached Laszlo--was leaning against John, head tucked under his chin, his right arm draped over John’s chest. John had one arm wrapped around his shoulders, cradling him and running his fingers through his hair, his other hand loosely clasped over one of Laszlo’s knees where his legs lay across his lap. Cyrus couldn’t see Laszlo’s face where it was nestled against John, but he seemed to be asleep; if not for the idle movements of John’s fingers over Laszlo’s hair, he might have assumed the same.

He stepped back, about to give them their privacy in this obviously tender moment, when the floorboards creaked beneath his heel.

It was quiet, barely even a sound, but John’s eyes flew open and locked with his. They widened, and Cyrus could see the colour drain from his face even from where he stood as he visibly tensed, looking for all the world as if he would jump clean through the ceiling.

Cyrus shook his head and raised his hands in a placating gesture. He gave John a small smile, then lifted a finger to his lips. John stared, pale and wide-eyed, but after a moment he pressed his lips together and settled. Cyrus nodded, gave him another smile, and left the room.

As he eased the door closed, he heard an incoherent mumble from inside, followed by John’s quiet voice.

“I’m here. Go back to sleep, my love.”

Cyrus was the first one up the next morning, getting the kitchen ready for breakfast while he waited for Stevie to drag himself out of bed. The sun hadn’t yet risen, but the cool light of dawn was enough to fill the small room. 

He could tell when someone entered the kitchen, but didn’t say a word as he knelt to stack firewood into the oven.

“It wasn’t what it looked like.”

John’s voice was thin and wrought with anxiety. When Cyrus looked up at him, he looked like he hadn’t slept a wink--his face was pale and drawn, and there were dark circles under his eyes. His clothes from the night before were rumpled, and Cyrus had the passing thought that he must have been on the couch all night.

He turned his attention back to the oven.

“I can’t say I know what you mean,” he said mildly.

John made a frustrated noise.

“Don’t play with me, Cyrus. I know you--last night, we--”

“John.”

John’s mouth snapped shut.

Cyrus pushed himself up, grunting when his knees cracked. He gestured for John to sit in one of the old chairs in the corner of the room, lowering himself into the other and resting his forearms on his legs, clasping his hands in front of him.

“Now,” he said, keeping his voice low to hopefully put John at ease, “I may not have known Laszlo as long as you, but I know he’s a good man. I also know he’s not one to get close...and I’m sure you do, too.”

John swallowed, nodded. Cyrus smiled.

“He cares about you a hell of a lot. Even if you weren’t…”

He waved a hand vaguely, unsure of the entire nature of their relationship. John coughed and quickly looked away.

“Even without that,” Cyrus continued, “Laszlo cares for you. And if I’m not mistaken, you care for him too.”

John slowly nodded.

“I do,” he said in a quiet voice. He laughed weakly, dragging a hand down his tired face. “I think...damn it all Cyrus, I think I love him.”

Cyrus's smile grew.

“Then I don’t think we’ve got anything more to discuss.”

He stood, clapping John on the shoulder. After a moment John got up as well, legs noticeably shaky.

He made to leave the room, but Cyrus stopped him.

“One more thing.”

John looked at him curiously; Cyrus's expression grew serious.

“You’d better take real good care of him.”

John looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or be afraid, but he met Cyrus's eyes with genuine resolve.

“I have no intention of doing anything else.”

Cyrus broke into a grin then, which John returned after a moment.

“Glad to hear it. Now go sit yourself down; you’re staying for breakfast.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’m Jared, 19, and I never learned how to write end notes.
> 
> Thank you for reading! This is an idea that popped into my head today, and I’ve had really bad writer’s block for my longer WIPs so I decided to just sit down and go for it. I really love these characters, I’m so hyped to be able to read the actual books to get more content of them.
> 
> Obligatory "[check out my tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/redex-writes)" note. I sometimes take requests, and often yell about writing or general fan nonsense. I’ve also been thinking about posting some snippets from WIPs I’m excited about, so that might be a thing as well!
> 
> Have a lovely day! Remember that you have people who care about you, and you deserve that ^^


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